


Amazon's Folly

by deceptivemirror



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Blood and Violence, Coercion, Dubious Morality, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Mental Instability, Mystery, Narcissism, Obsession, Other, Potions, Shapeshifting, Suspense, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceptivemirror/pseuds/deceptivemirror
Summary: She had kidnapped Ranma for his own good.  Finally, Shampoo had her husband within her grasp, in her village, away from the chaos and other fianceés in Nerima.  Ranma was hers.  Had been hers from the moment he had defeated her in battle.  Their lives together would be glorious.  He would serve her, worship her, and impregnate her with daughters to continue the tribe's legacy.His defiance was only a show for the other women vying for his attention, and failing.  Shampoo knew this.  She knew best for him.  Now they could be together as she knew he had always wished.





	Amazon's Folly

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've dabbled in Ranma 1/2 fanfiction, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. For those of you reading this, the tags I've used are quite dark, but the story likely won't be quite as dire as the tags suggest. However, there are some elements that may prove triggering for people who have suffered at the hands of narcissistic abusers. I ask that you read with caution.
> 
> For those people looking for a light-hearted romp through Ranma-land, this story is most ASSUREDLY not it. 
> 
> As always, Rumiko Takahashi created the universe of Ranma 1/2, and all the characters within (unless I've created them for story purposes) are hers.

Shampoo lay on the ground, dazed. Her head was spinning, she was bleeding from the mouth ( _two split lips_ , some cold part of her noted), and the agonizing pain in her side on every inhale told her something was broken. The part of her that wasn’t in shock figured she probably had some broken ribs, and every breath was proof those ribs were entirely too close to a lung. She couldn’t feel her legs. Her body couldn’t decide if it was hot or cold.

She couldn’t turn her head, so she glanced to the side using only her eyes. A hank of braided hair lay next to her, its weavings thick with strands of beading and bright red holly-berries. The light of the hearth made the beads and holly glow, almost as if the hair could catch fire at any moment. Shampoo thought, in a disconnected fashion ( _concussion_ , noted that clinical part of her), that it was beautiful.

“Great-granddaughter?”

Shampoo had been responding to that voice all her life. Even in her current state, which she was starting to realize was badly wounded, she could not help but respond. She made a low moan in the back of her throat.

“I hear you, great-granddaughter, and I am coming! Stay conscious!”

Stay conscious? Shampoo wished she could pass out. She didn’t want to catalogue her injuries, or wonder why there was a braid of hair next to her. She was terrified of the fact that her lower body was not responding. She wanted a blanket. She craved ice ( _can’t have cold water,_ that undercurrent muttered, _no no, turning into a cat right now would probably kill me_ ). 

Blood from her lips was leaking into her mouth. Shampoo was thirsty, but the slimy, metallic liquid was doing nothing to quench her thirst. It was pooling in the back of her mouth, making her feel like she was choking, that there wasn’t enough air. Trying to remain as still as possible, Shampoo swallowed. It was either that or cough, and Shampoo knew that coughing right now would be a bad idea.

Strange. She felt warmer along the side that didn’t hurt when she breathed. She wished she could move, but her body wouldn’t respond.

“Get the pallet in there, now! We can’t put the fire out until she’s safe!”

Fire, Shampoo thought disjointedly, would be one reason why she was starting to feel warmer.

Soft footsteps and the harder thunks of pogo-sticks hitting the ground were the only way Shampoo knew other people were with her. She felt herself being lifted, but did not know whose hands were touching her. The heat was getting worse. She was warming up. She was freezing. She couldn’t tell which was worse.

“You’re out, great-granddaughter, and you’re safe.”

That voice meant safety. The voice said it was safe.

Shampoo, with a grateful whimper, passed out.

\--()()--

Cologne looked grimly at the unconscious form of her youngest great-granddaughter. Shampoo’s thick, long hair was filthy and matted with blood, but experience told Cologne that head wounds, even minor ones, bled profusely. What worried her more was the clothing that was within Shampoo’s caved-in side, and the laboring, whistling breaths she was having to take through a clearly-broken nose. Shampoo looked as though someone had rolled her in sharp gravel. Her clothing was barely preserving the modesty Shampoo never claimed to have (her great-granddaughter was one of the most beautiful of her generation, and didn’t see fit to hide it). She was covered in scrapes, particularly on her abdomen and arms, and bruising was already appearing on some areas of her body.

Almost unconsciously, Cologne smoothed over the braid of hair the rescuers had also retrieved from the storage hut. The color was black, uncommon in Amazons, the hair well cared-for and glossy. Cologne knew holly was poisonous, but the beading told a story that tickled at a century-old memory.

The crackle and hiss of a fire being put out distracted her, but Cologne tried to focus. Something in the color combinations and choice of bead-holder was very familiar to her, but as hard as she tried, she could not remember why.

With a sigh, Cologne let the memory slide for now. It wasn’t immediately important, but as for what was—

_“—what the hell happened?!”_

**Eight months prior**

The Amazon Xian Pu, known in Japan as Shampoo, idly watched Ranma walk out of Dr. Tofu’s clinic for the fifth time in three months. Ranma looked healthy and strong, as he always did, a bounce in his step today that hadn’t been present in the previous four times. The first time, he had looked pained and was limping. Shampoo hadn’t seen him walk in at the time, had only seen him leave the clinic that day by chance, so she had no idea if he had been injured or not.

For once, Ranma was leaving the clinic alone. That accursed Tendo Akane, the Japanese fianceé that Shampoo barely refused to acknowledge (though her great-grandmother did, a fact which burned her), had accompanied him home up until this visit.

Shampoo viewed it as her chance. 

The part of her that contained her honor was clamoring against this course of action. Amazon warriors do not attack from behind, it tried to tell her. We are brave creatures who use our brains and skills, it declared. What we are about to do will forever tarnish what little honor we still have!

Shampoo wasn’t listening. It was her _chance._

She invoked an ancient technique of the Amazons that allowed her, if not invisibility, then the ability to not be noticed. It was not the Umisen-ken. The technique Shampoo was using, which was part ancient magic and part scent, convinced the people around her to not notice her. It was a technique she hated, because she adored attention, but it had its uses.

Such as coming up on her Japanese husband without him being aware.

He heard her—the technique only worked if she was in someone’s sight—but he didn’t get the chance to respond. A few quick pokes to certain areas, and he slumped over, unconscious. Shampoo caught him solicitously, since she didn’t want him hurt, and slung one of his arms over her shoulders in what she hoped looked like a loving embrace.

Her great-grandmother had reinforced constantly that, even if the residents of Nerima knew she was not an average person, that she take care to appear like one in order to not alarm them.

That viewpoint, which Shampoo understood, was nonetheless hampering her now, since she knew it would have been much faster to sling Ranma across her shoulders (for a man so much bigger than her, he weighed less than she thought). Instead, she had to hobble along with him, as if he was still awake, to give the impression she hadn’t just knocked him out. Foolishness, but useful foolishness. 

Once she got him near the shelter of some overhanging trees, Shampoo finally picked him up in the most efficient manner, then hopped onto the nearest roof. She knew she had to get back to the restaurant and explain to her great-grandmother what she had done. Cooperation was necessary in this stage of her plan.

Her impact on the nearest roof startled several local birds. White and dingy-grey feathers flew as wings flapped in surprise. Shampoo sneered at the fowl. Considering the regular travels of several martial artists, the birds should be accustomed to such goings-on by now. She dismissed the birds from her thoughts. They wouldn’t be a problem, or even a minor irritation, much longer.

Several minutes later, Ranma still slung across her shoulders, she arrived at the cafe, entering through the roof door. “Great-Grandmother,” she called in Chinese, relishing the opportunity to speak it. Her great-grandmother had only allowed her to speak Japanese while in Nerima, insisting she practice. “I have my husband! Quickly, we need to leave!”

“Child, what are you going on about—“ Great-grandmother Cologne started to yell back, before Shampoo, still carrying Ranma, came into sight. “I see.”

“Please, Great-Grandmother, are we prepared to go?” Shampoo begged. “The points I hit only work for 24 hours at the most, and you know it’s only safe to administer them twice in a row.”

“We can be gone within the hour, my child,” Cologne murmured, looking surprised. “I see you are using the perfume to go with the ability, now.”

“It was the only way to make it work,” Shampoo responded, feeling as though cold chills were spreading through her body. No, it was only her husband breathing steadily on her arm. “Aren’t you weary of being in this uptight country, filled with buildings? There is barely any wilderness around, and I miss our sister-warriors. It has been far too long since we have been home, ever since I had to leave to catch my husband, and I miss home, Great-Grandmother!”

That last part had come out in a whine, but Shampoo chose not to acknowledge that last part of her childhood clinging to her. It was dignified to want to return home, particularly when the prize of her travels was finally, literally, in her grasp.

“I also miss our home, child,” Cologne replied, looking into the distance. Or perhaps she was looking at a spot on the wall. Shampoo had never been able to read her great-grandmother’s face. “Very well. Gather your things and we shall leave. I will call our tribe and arrange a suitable transport. We can be home before you have to administer the points to son-in-law again.”

Shampoo bounced a little in joy at the idea and promptly took Ranma off her shoulders, putting him into one of the booths. She heard her great-grandmother say something quiet, but didn’t hear the meaning, nor did she care.

Finally, she would go home with her husband, the way she had wanted for the past year.


End file.
